Night Angel

Weaving through a Hammock

And so passed the next day and the next, with yet interesting or even morbidly funny happening. 

Actually, something had happened. That something being that the Great Revelations had just descended upon Aunt, while she was asleep. I mean how else, how else,  could she have thought it would be a good idea to confine me a to a room with needles and wool balls, asking me to sew a blanket?

"And," She nodded methodically while I just watched, a face as blank as paper on my face, "That's how it's done." 

I looked at the weaved red and yellow tapestry on her lap, and than looked back at her. It wasn't until she started setting the embroidery next to me did I came to the realization that she was actually serious. 

"You don't really expect me to, right?" I asked as she stood, correcting her apron, "I mean you were like," I immiated her netting at the speed of light. "I don't even know how to hold this thing!" 

"You'll learn," She replied, unperturbed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to look after the house." 

All the others were on their beds, on to their task without making a noise. Even Mable, on her bed just in front of mine, had what looked to be a black and white start of something. 

"Please," I begged, standing up. "I can't. I just can't. Anything but this!" I looked at the silk in disgust, "Anything." 

Now let me tell you, It took a lot. I nearly cried, nearly wrapped myself around her legs, nearly got slapped in the face, and nearly got threatened out of the house. But than a look of exasparation dawned on her face. She scanned the others, who had stopped sewing to watched the commotion. 

"Hurry up now," She snapped, "I can't deal with anymore of this. All of you, get going." 

"You!" She looked down at me, kneeling at her foot, "Stand up and follow me." 

Giddily, almost hopping, I did. She was walking as if the plague itself was chasing her. Unfortunately, she couldn't outrun me, mostly because there were too many turns on the way and she always had to pause to take a breath. 

"Okay," She abruptly turned. I narrowly missed bopping my nose into the fresh oil stains marked on her apron, "There's one simple task, just one. You do that, and you're free for the day." 

I should have known that evil smirk, that smugly noble tone, I should have. My elation came crashing down as she uttered the word of my nightmares. 

"Laundry." 

Oh, I hated the basement. 

"No!" I shouted, looking up defiantly, feeling betrayed, "No way! I'm not going down there." 

"It's either down," She gestured a perfect hand to the attic, "Or up."

"But there are cockroach down there. And- and- mice! Oh- and all those spiderwebs and the flickering light...."

"I don't have all day. Decide already."

I know for a fact that even Mabel- the only person I could envision standing before a tornado whilst fanning her face, a sun hat atop her face- would have chosen sewing. There was no harm in that. Oh sure! I probably would have gotten punctured fingers for one week or so. 

But that was an awesome excuse to avoid doing chores. I couldn't lift the baskets with my legs, now can I? 

I saw the all-knowing, bored looked on her face and knew that it was too late, that Mable was right and I should be sacked and dropped into River Thames that very second. 

"The basement. Sure. No big deal." 

I brushed it off easily, but I was trembling as she led me to the the creaky white door which for some reason, she always kept locked. I consoled myself, telling that the kitchen was right there and if the Boogeyman did appear, I could cry Bloody Murder at the top of my lungs... 

"Take the keys." 

I turned at the threshold, "Why?" 

"Because I'm tending to the flowers outside, that's why. Don't want you to get locked down there." 

I gave her the darkest look I could managed and barged down, well really it was more of a slinking, terrified tip-toeing than anything. 

At least sunlight was streaming down the small glass window somewhere. There was at east that, 

I tightened my skirt and went about my business.